


gutter bones

by bugbee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cannibalism, Eldritch, F/F, Horror, It Doesnt Go Well For Anyone, Pumpkin Party Zine, Rose Becomes A Horrorterror, Self-Mutilation, Zine piece, eldritch horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27325501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugbee/pseuds/bugbee
Summary: Rose Lalonde had made a pact. Perhaps she didn’t remember the details of it. Perhaps the nuances of the agreement had been lost in translation. Perhaps she simply didn’t know. But They did. They knew what contract had been made between Her and Them.Rose Lalonde had made a pact.It was time she held up her end of the deal.
Relationships: Horrorterrors & Rose Lalonde, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Kudos: 9





	gutter bones

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my piece for the [Pumpkin Party Zine](https://twitter.com/zinestuck) on twitter! You can download the full zine [here](https://yoitscro.itch.io/pumpkin-party)!

It started, like all things, very simply. Veins of ash that would creep up Rose’s skin when she was alone and no-one was looking. A quiet pulsing sensation that didn’t quite match up with her heartbeat. The slow creeping dread that inched up her spine in the moments between thoughts.

Perhaps most concerning was the soft gnaw of hunger that seemed to slither every now and then, never quite sated no matter how much she ate.

Something was Wrong.

And yet, for reasons she didn’t know, she never voiced a word of concern. Every time she thought to get help, it would... slip away like sand through her fingers, quietly cascading out of her memory and into the deep abyss of her mind, where something eagerly swallowed it up. So these small things remained unspoken, like a mysterious lump found on the skin, or a strange mole you weren’t quite convinced was dangerous.

Yet.

It wasn’t until she was alone in the bathroom, getting ready for the day ahead that she noticed the webbing across her face, wriggling and writhing beneath her skin like maggots you couldn’t see or reach, but knew were there. Her breath hitched, tongue weighed down by a force she couldn’t fight against, even as she tried to flinch backwards. But her limbs were like lead, slow and stuttering, as though they weren’t quite her own but someone else’s entirely. It wasn’t until her fist collided with the mirror, smashing it into thousands of tiny sharp shards, that she could move again.

“What the fuck,” stumbled out of her mouth, chest heaving as she sucked in air she didn’t even realise was missing.

Her eyes darted down to the single remaining shard on the mirror, the cracks creeping across like the same web she had seen on her face. Except there was nothing there. Her face was pristine, no blemish or mark marring it in some way.

“Rose?” a concerned voice called out. “Is everything alright? I heard something break!”

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but- nothing came out. The words she tried to say stayed stuck in her throat, and instead her jaw and tongue began to move, forming sentences against her will.

“I am fine, my love!” her voice replied. “Just hit the mirror!”

“Ah, very well! I’ll be heading off now to the caverns. Don’t break anymore mirrors!” Kanaya said teasingly, and her laughter echoed up the stairs, joyful and amused. Rose’s body laughed as well, and she couldn’t wrench her tongue away from the phantom grip that kept it moving, spilling out a farewell  _ she _ didn’t say.

Her eyes remained transfixed on the remains of the mirror, and she swore something looked back at her. It  _ smiled _ , a chorus of whispers joining her wife’s distant laughter, and Rose’s breath hitched desperately.

The hunger in her belly ached, and her hand reached forward, slowly grabbing a fistful of shards. Her head cocked to the side as she watched them glitter like stars against her skin. Blood began to well up, viscous and sticky, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the way the shards seemed to glow. She lifted it up jerkily, mouth widening to consume the glass coated in crimson.

Rose bit down, the tacky, sweet taste of blood covering the sharpness of the shards, even as they cut into her mouth and let more blood flow. Her teeth ground down, a gentle crunching filling the room, and she couldn’t help but be reminded of the time she broke her arm as a child, of the sound it had made.

It sounded very similar to the cracking of glass between her teeth now.

Finally, she swallowed, the mixture of blood, saliva, and glass trickling down her throat like molasses. Her mouth burned, but-

The hunger was gone.

Rose looked at her hands. They did not shake or tremble. Her body showed no fear, no delirium or terror. Instead, her lips pulled up into a smile, flecks of red staining the pristine white of her teeth.

The remaining shard on the cabinet split with a loud snapping sound, and her hand ached sharply. Her eyes slowly moved to look at her outstretched hand, fingers clenched around the crumbling shards.

Had she…?

And then it was finished. She collapsed like a doll, limbs finally free from whatever had taken hold of her. Rose curled up into a ball, body shivering in pain and confusion as she tried to grasp at what had just happened.

The bathroom light seemed too bright, as though it were exposing her to something she desperately shouldn’t be noticed by. She unfurled herself and crawled to the light switch, flicking it off with bloody fingers. The dark fell across her like a blanket, and relief swept through her limbs. Distantly, she noticed that her hand was still gripped tightly around the last shard of glass, fingers digging into the edges desperately. She could hear the soft drip, drip, drip of her blood, but she made no effort to clean it up. Instead, she sat by the light switch, body trembling gently as she waited in the darkness.

* * *

“...-ose? Rose?!” 

Light flooded the bathroom, and she flinched, eyes roving around the brightened room. Nothing happened. Nothing was watching her. Hands came down to rest on her shoulders suddenly, and she gasped, pulling air into her lungs as though she had held her breath for… for…

How long had she been in here? 

“Kanaya?” she croaked out, blinking blearily as the world came into focus.

“You weren’t responding,” her wife whispered in return, gaze filled with terror as she gripped her tightly. 

“I… the blood-?” Rose mumbled, and Kanaya blinked in confusion, before she jerked forward to inspect her.

“Are you injured? Where did you hurt yourself?” she snapped out, eyes darting up and down her body as she scanned for any sign of blood. 

Rose lifted her hands.

They were clean. 

She looked around at the bathroom.

It was as pristine as ever, save for the broken mirror and the shards of glass scattered across the floor. 

Had it all been a hallucination? Some fantasy conjured up out of stress or illness? 

Rose wet her lips, and found that no, she could still taste the blood and glass, as well as something  _ other  _ that she couldn’t quite pin down. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know either. But aside from the lingering copper taste on her tongue, there was no evidence that she had ever cut herself, not on her hands, not in her mouth, and not in her throat. 

It was like nothing had happened. 

“Rose?” Kanaya said again, voice lowered in worry. “What happened?”

It felt like her tongue was lead again, weighing inside her mouth like a stone, and Rose could barely force the words out.

“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I don’t know."

* * *

“Are you sure?” Kanaya fretted again, hands hovering around her face, peering intently into her eyes. “I can happily do it if you’re not feeling well.”

Rose shook her head. She’d been cooped up in the house for days after her… episode. She needed to get out or else she’d start climbing up the walls.

“I’ll be fine, Kanaya. I need the fresh air,” she explained, grabbing one of her hands and placing a small kiss onto Kanaya’s fingers. Her wife shook her head fondly, but leaned in nonetheless to rest her forehead against hers.

“Alright. If you need anything, or feel sick, come back immediately, yes?”

She gave her one last kiss, before pulling back, and opening the front door. 

“Of course. I’ll be back shortly. Message me if there’s anything else you need from the store.”

Kanaya waved goodbye as she left, watching her closely, and Rose chuckled lowly. She’d been fretting ever since she had found her in the bathroom, and as much as she adored her wife, she really did need some space. Rose had ultimately chalked up everything to a... hyper-realistic hallucination, with the taste of blood simply inserting itself from one of her memories due to the traumatic nature of the illusion. As for why it had happened… well, she was still trying to figure that out. Ultimately however, it had passed, and she wasn’t going to dwell on it any longer. 

The evening glow cast the neighbourhood around her in deep luscious orange, and Rose found herself smiling. Despite all the struggles, all the grief and trauma… they had managed to build something beautiful in the end. She let herself take in the streets before her, even though she knew them as well as the back of her hand. 

Her eyes traced the gnarled lines of the trees, the vibrancy of the flowers, the laughter of children in the distance. This was peace, she decided. 

It wasn’t long before she reached the store, a small smile still on her face, and she quickly tugged out the list Kanaya had given to her. Milk, eggs, bread, flour… the basics. She wandered up to the fridges, basket in hand, and reached in to grab a bottle of milk.

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket seemed to grow brighter, bathing her in a sterile light. She swallowed softly, and ducked her head. 

It was all in her mind. It wasn’t real.

The fridge was cold. Colder than she expected, the chill sinking into her skin like fangs into soft meat, spreading down her fingertips and up her arm. Her hand clamped around the milk bottle, harsher than she had meant to, but she reasoned it was because she was on edge. She tried to pull her arm out.

It didn’t budge. 

Her teeth came down to bite her tongue, the sharp sting lancing through her mouth as blood gently welled up from the wounds. Ice continued to travel up her arm, plunging into her very bones and sitting there, nesting into her marrow like a parasite she couldn’t escape. Her fingers were turning blue, she noticed distantly. Blue and purple and black, like rot and poison trapped inside her veins, begging her to purge it, to get it out, get it out,  _ get it out- _

“Miss?” 

Rose yanked her arm out of the fridge, almost dropping the bottle from the speed. A shop assistant stared at her in worry, eyebrows creased and eyes pitying.

“Is everything alright?” they asked.

Rose swallowed, ignoring the smooth slide of blood down her throat. The lights were back to normal.

“I’m fine,” she forced out, “just lost in thought.”

They nodded, but they didn’t look convinced.

“I’ll be over there if you need me,” they said kindly. Rose gave a sharp nod, watching as they left back to the counter, eyes flicking to look back at her every so often.

She turned back to her arm.

It was the same shade as always. 

Another hallucination?

But she could swear that she still felt the chill in her skin, still couldn’t move her fingers from the numbness. 

It wasn’t real, she reminded herself. 

Hunger stirred in her stomach.

She grabbed the rest of the items she needed as quickly as possible, staying as far away as possible from the fridges. She barely looked at the shop assistant as they scanned her items, even though she could feel their worried glances at her. She didn’t stick around, instead bolting out of the shop the moment she could, eyes focused firmly on the ground below her.

If she didn’t look up, she reasoned, then she wouldn’t see anything. 

Except there were cracks in the pavement, cracks that seemed to slowly grow bigger and deeper, a yawning chasm peeking through the gaps when she dared to look. She took in a shaky breath, ignoring the eyes that stared at her from within the darkness. 

And then something slammed into her, and she was forced to look up.

“Watch where you’re going!” A voice snapped out, fury laced in his words, but Rose couldn’t pay attention to him. Her gaze was fixed on the concrete surrounding her, the ancient vines and moss that snaked around them. She had wandered off past her house, into the beginning of the Old World. 

“Sorry,” she muttered out, and the man scoffed. 

“Fucking idiot,” he snarled under his breath, turning to leave, but-

Rose’s stomach growled, deep and desperate. She was hungry. So, so hungry. 

The man’s back stared at her, open and inviting. Unbidden, she took a step forward, the crunch of leaves seeming to echo between the walls. The man turned back to look at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He opened his mouth and said something, but she couldn’t hear him. 

Whispers seemed to flood her mind, all clamouring for attention, and she took another step forward. The man had begun to turn red, and it seemed like he was shouting at her. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t leaving.

He was right there.

And 

she 

was

**_so_ **

**_very_ **

**_Hungry-_ **

Rose wasn’t sure what happened next. But she remembered her body darting forward, hands mottled with purple and blue as her claws reached out to grab him, to  **consume him** . She remembered feeling her mouth open, wider than anything she should have been capable of, sharp teeth sinking into the sweet flesh beneath her. She remembered his skin bursting like overripe fruit hitting the pavement, spraying crimson across her face and the floor.

She remembered the crunching, the chewing, the sweet slide of meat down her throat and finally, finally filling her stomach.

She remembered the hunger receding, and the taste of blood clinging to her lips, shards of bone between her teeth.

She remembered finally,  _ finally,  _ feeling full.

* * *

When she came to, the body was gone. She was alone in the clearing, her bag of groceries dropped beside her and spilling onto the floor, with no evidence of anything having happened a few moments before.

The bread was moldy, she noticed absentmindedly. The milk wasn’t much better, yellowish liquid pooling at the top as the spoiled chunks sank to the bottom. The sky was dark, an endless void where before the evening sun had still been shining. 

How long had she been here?

How long had she consumed?

The strange calm that had nestled in her bones fled, and Rose let out a dry sob, teeth clacking sharply as she tried to hold back tears. 

What the fuck had that been? What the fuck was happening to her? 

A scream bubbled in the back of her throat, but she bit it back violently. Some small desperate part of her told her not to. That screaming would only make it  _ worse _ . 

She didn’t want to know what  _ it  _ was. 

Rose stumbled back to her home, feet clumsy and body swaying, as though she was drunk. She opened the door and tripped inside, shaking fingers letting the plastic bag slip to the floor. The rotten milk burst as it hit the floor, chunks slowly pooling onto the tiled floor, and despite the stumbling panic that had been pounding in her heart moments before, she felt… distant. Disconnected. 

It wasn’t until she heard footsteps pounding against the stairs that she snapped to attention. Kanaya peered at her from the bannister, dried tear tracks stark against her face. She blinked once, twice, before letting out a shuddering gasp of “Rose!” and practically tripping down the stairs to throw herself at her. 

“Where have you been?” she sobbed out hoarsely. “You’ve… It’s been three days!” 

Three days. She had been gone for… three days. Rose’s heart sank, and she felt bile bubble up in the back of her throat. 

“I-” 

Hunger gnawed in her stomach, and suddenly she could see the warm flesh of her wife’s body, the sweet slide of jade blood that would quench her parched throat, the bones that would finally, finally silence the screaming starvation that never left. Rose jerked backwards, a quiet whine escaping her lips.

No.

_ No. _

“Rose?”

Kanaya’s voice was muffled, the words slowly slipping into static and void, and Rose’s fingers twitched. It would be so easy. So, so easy to reach out in a mockery of an embrace, and finally  **_feast-_ **

**_No!_ **

She shoved Kanaya back, and she slipped against the rotten milk, body colliding with the floor. Regret and self-loathing slithered up her skin, but she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t help her up.

She could not let herself linger for another moment. Eyes burning, she turned away and bolted out the door, sprinting as fast as she could down the streets she had thought so peaceful and quaint before. Now though, the streetlights burned into her skull, while the shadows chased her with the slow ease of someone who knew they had already won. 

She let out a dry sob, and tried to run faster, but her foot caught on a crack in the pavement, jettisoning her forward and into the pavement. Her face skidded across the asphalt, pain searing against her skin, but she couldn’t dare let herself pause. 

Something moved in the corner of her eye, and she flinched, desperately trying to shove herself up. Except-

A hand was offered before her. The fingers were pale, so, so pale, flecks of red and grey seeming to stain the skin like paper. A part of her wanted to lurch forward and grab on, to pray that this stranger could pull her out of this nightmare, but… something screamed at her not to.

That if she took this hand, if she even looked up…

It would all be over.

She swallowed, and the lingering taste of blood gathered on her tongue, a mocking reminder of what she had done, of what she was  _ becoming _ .

“ **You’ve struggled very bravely, little one,** ” a soft voice seemed to coo into her mind, and there was something desperately, horrifically familiar about it. And yet, she couldn’t quite tell what it was.

“What do you want?” she asked hoarsely, and the being tutted. 

“ **Come now, Rosie darling. How quickly you forget.** ”

And despite her mind screaming, begging her not to, Rose looked up.

“Mom-?” she tried to say, but the moment she locked eyes with the being who wore her mother’s face, she knew she had made a mistake.

Possibly the biggest one in her life.

The being smiled indulgently, crouching down to lovingly stroke her face. Rose could not move. Just like in the bathroom, in the supermarket, something had slithered inside her limbs and kept her still.

Somehow, she didn’t think she would be able to break free like before.

“ **Yes, yes, dear. I am your mother, your progenitor, your creator. That was what we agreed on after all, young one.** ”

The thing that held her mother’s face seemed to twitch, and slowly the features slid off, creeping down, down, down, until the face of Beta Roxy Lalonde hit the floor with a wet sound. 

The horror terror reached around to cradle her in a mockery of a parental embrace, and she could feel the icy wetness of a limb cup her cheek. 

“ **You must be so hungry, poor dear. It is alright now, young one. Come. Let us feast.** ”

She felt herself stand up, the horror terror gripping her face, and slowly, she surveyed the world around her. It was quiet. Peaceful. The soft glow of the sun began to rise above the horizon, bathing the streets in golden light.

It was beautiful.

And it would finally sate her hunger.


End file.
